Facing Reality (Sequel to, Then Reality Struck) Sting X Reader

Chapter 2

"I'm sorry, but who are you people?" I asked.

And in that moment, you could actually hear the male's heart breaking.

-•-

I sighed as I was brought into a room that was apparently mine. I was told thy before the accident that I was staying at the blonde one's house, well living there to be precise.

I looked around, everything left in a mess and untidy, seems like me. A knock echoed through the small room, jolting me from my thoughts. I stood up from the bed, walking over to the door where I opened it.

There stood the blonde male, who I found outs name was Sting Eucliffe. I mean it sounded familiar but I couldn't put my finger on it.

I stared at the male as he smiled weakly at him, I could tell it pained him to see me. His blue eyes held sadness and his illuminating blonde hair stuck around in multiple directions.

"(Y/n), I was wondering if you'd like to go on a picnic with me tonight, you know, to try to help your memories." Sting spoke, a little bit of awkwardness held in his voice.

"Ummmmm... sure." I finally spoke after some thought. I mean how bad could it be?

-•-

"Sting! Stop stripping, we're in a park!" I exclaimed, trying to stop the male from stripping anymore.

Here's the thing, since technically Sting is a year older than me and flinched high school a few times, he thinks it's okay to drink...at our picnic.

"Stop it!!" I grabbed his arm, stopping him from unzipping his pants, his shirt was already long gone. "C'mon, you're drunk, lets go home."

"(Y/n), I swear to drunk I'm not god!" Sting said quickly, his voice slurring.

"I already knew you weren't god." I spoke.

We were starting to have a peaceful picnic, Sting making sandwiches and other shit. But once he brought the alcohol out I was surprised, he didn't seem like the person to drink, especially since it seems like something's bothering him.

I sighed, then noticed Sting frantically searching in his pockets, "Sting, what are you looking for?" I asked.

"I can't find! I lost it!" He exclaimed.

"Lost what?"

"I lost my meaning to life!" Then he took his hands out of his pocket, crying on my shoulder and hugging me tightly. Then he stopped for a moment, "Oh, wait, I found it, you're my meaning to life, (y/n)."

A blush wove into my cheek, "C-C'mon, you're drunk, lets go home." I spoke.

-•-

Upon getting home, I dropped Sting off into his room and went to mine. I plopped down onto my bed, my mind wandering around.

Through Sting's words I could only think of a distant memory involving a small blonde boy and his maroon colored cat.

-•-

A/N: I have a crisis! Maybe not a bad one but still! I don't know what to call my readers, I have so many of you and I want to call you guys something. Any ideas?